


Shall We Dance?

by Yamino



Category: Frozen (2013)
Genre: Brother/Sister Incest, Crossdressing, Elsanna - Freeform, F/F, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-05
Updated: 2014-02-13
Packaged: 2018-01-07 13:06:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,120
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1120158
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yamino/pseuds/Yamino
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Elsa wants to be more involved in the upcoming ball, but is anxious about dancing with strangers.  Anna takes it upon herself to help her sister by introducing her to a dashing prince to practice with, but "he" isn't quite who Elsa expects. (Based on a drawing, with additional illustrations.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Elsa at the Window](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/33696) by Yamino. 



> This is a fluffy fic which shall involve romantic sister-kissing but nothing graphic. This fic is based on **[this drawing I did.](http://yamino.deviantart.com/art/Dance-Lesson-420344648)** <3 Thank you to [Summerlightning](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Summerlightning/) for her beta-ing, input, and constant encouragement. <3

  


It whispers a promise in the cool, crisp winds from the north mountain, sweeping to kiss the valley of Arendelle. It fogs its breath against the warmth of the castle’s windows, tracing its fingers in tendrils of frost on the glass. It silently stills the rivers and fountains, settles peaceably onto rooftops in a smooth, perfect blanket. Queen Elsa touches her window’s reflection in greeting to her old friend. Winter has finally come home.

Although Elsa doesn’t experience temperature (at least, she thinks, not in the same way as other people seem to) she does sense the hot and cold in other ways- in summer, the heat is oppressive, sucking the energy out of her like a vampire, leaving her drained. Winter, by contrast, is gentle and familiar, demanding nothing, providing comfortable equilibrium between herself and the environment. She wishes others could feel it as she did, curling in her bones as a cat curls on a pillow.

While the seasonal change is a welcome one, it comes with new queenly duties to perform, most prominently the organization and attendance to the kingdom’s yearly winter solstice celebration. While her younger sister gets to prance around in the thickening snow, Elsa must stay inside and oversee the preparations: there are menus, entertainment, and decorations to approve, invitations to send, and of course the obligatory speech to the citizens. She can hardly get a moment to relax without an attendant or two seeking her opinion or permission on one thing or another. Which color accent would Her Majesty prefer on her dress? What song should the choir sing at the opening? As for the appetizers, seafood or meat? Was this order of dances pleasing to Her Majesty? Elsa ends up relegating the majority of the planning to her advisors. The avalanche of questions makes her feel like a frazzled mother of thousands, trying too hard to answer every needy child seeking her approval. 

But there is at least one needy child she is willing to indulge: the little girl inside who is sick of this stressful nonsense and thinks it’s about time she went outside to build a snowman.

In the snow-glazed royal gardens, Elsa’s handiwork is interrupted by a high whistle. Anna, fully decked in her snow-gear, has finally found her, and she is thoroughly impressed by the tiny army of snowpeople her sister just created. “Elsa, wow!” she exclaims, making her way over. Elsa has outdone herself, even creating tiny little ice structures for the snow people to interact with. On closer inspection, Anna realizes it is a miniature version of their castle. She squats down to observe the little people. “Aw, they’re so cu-- oh. Oh. Ouch.”

On closer inspection she realizes some of them are walking headfirst into walls, others are falling off of rooftops like lemmings or running into each other, snowballing into larger, multilegged creatures. 

“Um, Elsa... some of these guys are kinda... goofy. It’s okay though-” she adds quickly, picking one up in her glove, “-- I think it gives them character.”

“...Yeeeeah,” Elsa sighs, stroking her braid uneasily as she observes her strange creations. A light snowfall drifts down from the sky. Near Elsa, it swirls gently around her person, invisibly stirred.

Anna crunches through the powdery snow to stand beside her sister. She looks at the queen, then glances back down at the locomotively-challenged snowpeople, who are getting more strangely dismembered and mutated by the second. This macabre display is rather concerning.

“Hey Elsa...” she starts, forcing a tentative smile, “Everything ok? You seem kind of... stressed out.”

“It’s just a little overwhelming, sometimes,” Elsa says, looking at her hands. “I know it’s selfish, but I miss when Mama and Papa handled everything. I don’t feel ready for this yet. Everyone has so much faith in me, but...” She trails off, smiling bitterly. “How can I be the queen Arendelle deserves if I get this worked up over planning a festival?”

Anna reaches a gloved hand to cover her sister’s bare bare fingers, clasping them reassuringly.

“Don’t be so hard on yourself. It’s going to be fine! And if it’s not, just blame it all on me. Everyone knows I’m really good at ruining big parties,” Anna assures her. Elsa gives her a half-hearted smile. Anna smiles back. “Really, though... what’s there to worry about? I thought you had ironed it all out.”

“I’ll be expected to dance.” 

Anna feels foolish for not realizing the issue. Elsa gets anxious around large groups of people. Old anxieties die hard, she supposes, and her sister is still unused to being touched by strangers, even in formal settings.

“Well, uh... that’s never been an issue before, has it? It’s not as if anyone can make you dance if you don’t want to.” Unless someone told Elsa there was a spider on her, Anna thinks, but that’s her little secret. “You’re the queen, you know? If you hate dancing so much, you could make a decree and ban it or whatever! Go mad with power! Whoo!” she exclaims. In her enthusiasm, she accidentally kicks off a spire of the tiny ice castle. It flies up high, then plummets down and impales a tiny snow person. Anna winces. “Ooh... sorry.”

Elsa, who seems too distracted to have noticed the incident, wrings her hands and says nothing. An idea dawns upon her younger sister. “Elsa... do you want to dance?” Anna asks.

“I... I haven’t really had much practice.” Her older sister purses her lips. “For the few events I’ve attended, I’ve always stood on the side and watched. I didn’t think I had a choice. But--” She glances at Anna, lost, vulnerable, seeking assurance. “I don’t want to be that person anymore. I want to show our people I can be more involved, more approachable, more friendly. Like you are,” she adds, squeezing Anna’s glove.

“O-oh!” Startled at the absurd idea of her elegant, gorgeous, perfect big sister aspiring to emulate her, Anna shrugs and gives a flustered laugh. “You want to be more like me? Oh Elsa... be careful what you wish for,” she says loftily, but her cheeks glow with the unexpected praise. She feels suddenly emboldened. “But all right! If you insist-“ she proclaims, stepping close to pull Elsa towards her and to rest her other glove the older girl’s waist.

  


Elsa laughs nervously at the sudden and unexpected approach. “Wait, uh- what are we doing?” she asks.

Anna tilts her head at the silly question. “Isn’t it obvious? I’m going to teach you how to dance! Now, put your hand here,” she instructs gently, moving her sister’s hand to her shoulder. “Now we hold our other hands like this--- ok? And just follow me. One, two, three, one, two three--”

“Oof--!” Elsa grunts. She wearily glances down at her trodden foot, protected only by a fragile ice slipper, then shifts her gaze to her sister’s thick, heavy winter boots. “I’m feeling a little vulnerable here,” she says in mock accusation.

“Sorry, sorry!” Anna says guiltily, shifting her feet. “I’m not used to leading! I’ll be more careful, I promise.” She is, and soon they find their waltz rhythm, Anna counting the beats for guidance. Elsa is a fast learner, and within minutes she keeps up easily, glancing down now and then to ensure she won’t trample any of her tiny, mutated snow people. Her creations mostly manage to scramble out of the way, some of them sitting on miniature ice roofs to watch the towering royals dance. 

Elsa slowly feels herself relaxing to the predictable, comfortable synchronization of their steps. The snow flurry from earlier calms to a very mild precipitation; the delicate snowflakes seem to hover rather than fall. Some of them pepper Anna’s coppery hair, and the cold air brings an attractive blush to her freckled cheeks, Elsa notes with a private smile. Anna’s eyes look greener without Arendelle’s grassy knolls to compete with them. Winter always seems to emphasize the natural color and beauty of everything it touches, Elsa thinks, and her sister is no exception.

As Elsa watches, Anna’s lips tug into a smirk. “You’re a natural, Elsa.” The compliment puffs in the frigid air, dissipating between them.

“Hm? I... oh, thank you,” Elsa responds, taken off guard. Her face softens. “It’s easy because it’s with you.”

“I-Is that so? Well... let me know if you need me to step on your other foot, then!” Anna says, full of false bluster, and Elsa laughs. It’s good to see her genuinely smile again, Anna thinks. All these unexpected compliments are giving her a fluttering tickle, like butterflies. She is reminded of their first real meeting in forever, at her sister’s coronation. She makes a mental promise to herself: this time, she will ensure everything goes perfectly for Elsa. After completely ruining the last ball, she owes her sister that much.

Elsa’s smile fades; she still seems preoccupied with some worry. “It won’t be the same dancing with strange men,” she sighs finally. “There’s going to be at least twice as many guests as last time. And especially now that my secret is out, the nobility from every neighboring kingdom are jostling to win my favor in any way they can. I’m nothing but an asset to them... or a threat to be neutralized.”

Anna stops her feet, suddenly serious. “What, you think... someone will try to hurt you?” Her jaw clenches at the thought. Her grip on Elsa tightens.

“The thought has crossed my mind, yes,” Elsa says. Her mouth thins into a stern line. “If anyone tries anything, they’ll have to face security. And, well, me.”

“And me! If anyone dares--“ Anna’s eyes glow with a fierce green anger. “I’ll... I’ll...”

Elsa can’t help but be heartened by her sister’s reaction. “Beat them to a pulp with a lute?” she asks. Her smile comes easy. She’s rarely seen her sister get so angry. There’s something enthralling about it.

Anna punches her gloved hands together. “No way! This punishment deserves a full-blown guitar!”

Her fury is quieted by the gentle pressure of Elsa’s hands in her own. “I appreciate your enthusiasm, but let’s hope that won’t be necessary. It would be a shame to waste a perfectly good guitar.” Anna huffs, sending her bangs fluttering. Elsa privately finds the gesture adorable. 

“I’m honestly not too concerned about that! I can defend myself if I have to. And yes,” Elsa continues as her sister opens her mouth to interject, “I know that you’d rescue me even if I couldn’t.” 

“I don’t understand, then. If you’re not worried about someone, uh... killing you, what are you worried about?”

The queen’s smile fades. “Like I said, royals from all corners of the kingdom will be visiting. Mostly harmless dignitaries, envoys... and I’ll have to dance with all of them.”

“You’re a great dancer, Elsa, I’ve been trying to tell you--”

“Anna!” Elsa pulls away. She wrings her hands: looks at them, winces, holds them up. “I’ll have to dance with all of them,” she repeats. “Don’t you get it? I’ll have to touch them. It’s one thing to stab someone with an icicle if they’re trying to kill me, but what if I jab someone when they’re just trying to waltz?”

Anna grins. “You haven’t jabbed me. Not once! Not this whole time!”

Turning to show Anna her shoulders, Elsa hugs her arms to her chest. “It’s different with you. If we could dance alone together, just us, I’d be fine. Excuse me.” She gifts her sister a distracted smile and hurries along the garden path back toward the castle, following the hopeful call of servant.

Anna watches her go, tapping her chin thoughtfully.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anna introduces Elsa to a dashing dance partner. (Illustrated!)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the chapter that inspired the entire story, which in turn was inspired by a drawing I made. (Included below!) Thank you again to my wife Ash ([summerlightning](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Summerlightning/pseuds/Summerlightning)) for indulging my perfectionism and critiquing and discussing so much with me. <3

Chapter 2:

The room is dark, save for the spill of moonlight and the flickering glow from her bedside candle. She has brushed her teeth, changed into her night dress, and refreshed herself on the next day’s duties. There’s no clock to confirm her suspicions -- years of isolation have made her despise nonstop ticking -- but as the minutes drag into hours, Elsa resigns herself to accept that Anna’s probably not coming to say goodnight. She closes the book she’s been reading to pass the time, and leans over to blow out the candle.

Elsa feels silly being so disappointed over such a trivial thing, and tries to console herself with the knowledge that she’ll see Anna first thing in the morning at breakfast. But she always looks forward to their nightly ritual of brushing each other’s hair and talking in the dark until their eyelids droop. Sometimes, when Anna is undoing her older sister’s braid, she sifts her fingers through Elsa’s pale platinum hair and rakes her fingernails gently over her scalp, sending shivers down her spine. She won’t admit it, but Elsa craves that most of all.

She half-heartedly lets down her hair and combs it herself. She’s just closing her eyes and settling into the nook of her pillow when there’s a knock at the door. The familiar beat leaves little doubt as to the knocker’s identity. Her eyes shoot open.

“Anna?” she calls, sitting up expectantly. She fumbles in the dark for a match to re-light her still-smoking candle. “Come in!”

“Actually, can you come out?” her sister’s voice responds through the door.

Confused, Elsa abandons her search for matches and leaves her bed, making toward the door. “Why?”

There’s a brief pause. “Ah, well, I... there’s someone out here to meet you.”

Elsa freezes with her hand hovering over the doorknob. “What? At this hour? Anna, I’m already in my nightdress.” She frowns and turns her ear towards the door. “Who is it?” she asks finally.

“I can’t tell you, it’s a surprise. ” There’s a barely concealed smile in her tone. 

Elsa wonders if this is some sort of prank. She wrings her hands. “I’m not decent right now. Please tell whoever it is they can arrange a proper meeting with me tomorrow.”

She hears her sister groan in frustration through the thick wooden door. “Elsa, just trust me, ok? It’s fine.”

There is a heavy pause, but finally the door cracks open a sliver, revealing one suspicious blue eye.

The unexpected sight draws a gasp from the darkened queen’s chamber. “Oh...” Slowly, Elsa pushes the door fully open to better appreciate the view.

It’s Anna, just Anna, but she looks different. It’s a good different. Elsa looks her up and down. Instead of her usual loose, flowing skirts, she’s wearing a dapper suit -- a slick formal jacket the color of frosted pine, her copper hair pulled into a tight braided bun. Elsa can’t remember ever seeing her sister wear trousers, and that is a shame, for they certainly flatter Anna’s figure. She’s wearing cream gloves to match, and black boots. Not the dainty winter boots she is so fond of, but smart, polished men’s boots that gleam in the dim moonlight of the hall. And is that the scent of men’s cologne? Elsa is suddenly very aware of the quickening pitter-patter in her chest. She unconsciously gnaws her lower lip.

Her speechless attention does not go unnoticed. A sheepish smile tugs across Anna’s lips, and she gives a little turn for her sister’s benefit. “Do you like it?”

“Y-yes. Wow. You look... very nice.” Elsa stammers, startled at her own ineloquence. She chalks it up to being tired. _‘Get it together, Elsa,’_ she mentally berates herself. “Where did you find this?” she asks curiously, gesturing to Anna’s ensemble.

“It’s one of Papa’s old things, I found it in his giant closet. You know how nostalgic he was. I think he might have been wearing this the first time he met Mama,” Anna says, giving her silk cravat a nervous little tug. “I know you’re still nervous about the ball, and I tried to think of what else I could do to help, and I thought, well... maybe you’d like to practice dancing with a prince instead of a princess.”

“I see!” Elsa presses her fingers over her smile. Her gaze flickers to each corner of the hall, checking for servants. Assured that they are alone, she fixes her gaze on her sister once more and steps out of her room. She straightens into a formal posture, folding her hands elegantly before her. Lifting her chin, she looks down at her sister through lidded eyes. Within seconds she manages to transition from a startled girl in her pajamas to the collected, regal persona she assumes for the public. Anna can’t help but be impressed at the transformation.

“And what is your title, Mr. Prince?”

Anna perks up, delighted by Elsa’s acceptance of her charade. She bends low to give her sister a respectful bow. “Prince Andre at your service, my Queen.” Following protocol, she straightens up and extends her gloved hand to the queen, a silent request.

After a moment’s hesitation, Elsa offers her own hand in return. Anna’s warm leather grip is firmer than expected. Elsa shivers at the warm tickle of air on her skin when Anna gently lifts her hand to her lips; Elsa’s own breath seems caught in her throat. She hopes Anna doesn’t notice the tremble in her fingers when she kisses them.

“May I escort you to the dance floor, Your Majesty?” Anna asks, barely concealing a giddy smirk. 

Elsa nods and threads her arm through the one her sister offers. “Please do.” So close to Anna now, Elsa can confirm she is definitely wearing men’s cologne.

To her surprise, Anna leads them straight past the hallway that leads to the ballroom. Elsa is privately very relieved -- the ballroom is a bad place with bad memories, an unfortunately central room which to this day she must take inconvenient detours around when navigating her castle. Elsa wonders if Anna has noticed her strange habit, and intentionally planned their practice elsewhere. Anna’s altered memory is still distorted regarding the terrible incident there, or perhaps it was removed entirely. Elsa has no doubt that someday, they’ll have to have a painful discussion about that, though the thought makes her heart lead-heavy.

Elsa’s dreary musings dissipate as she suddenly realizes where Anna is leading them instead. The sisters glance at each other sideways to share a knowing smile. Their entry to the chamber is observed on all sides by hundreds of eyes, although none of bystanders utter a syllable. The wall-bound, two-dimensional audience is merely painted, after all. 

Anna has clearly made some preparations in advance, indicated by the lit candelabra bathing the gallery in a warm, romantic light. Against the wall is a phonograph. As Anna excuses herself to go tinker with it, Elsa imagines her sister scurrying around all evening preparing this for her, and is filled with a rush of affection that sends her bare toes curling against the polished wood floor. Their missed hair brushing ritual is immediately forgiven.

Anna, usually so clumsy, seems quite practiced with the phonograph. Once she coaxes a wafting waltz out of the trumpeted machine, she turns her attention back to her sister.

“Your Majesty--“ she says, extending her hand once more, “May I have this dance?”

Elsa nods, struggling to maintain an appropriately subdued smile. “It would be my pleasure, Prince Andre.”

Thanks to Anna’s earlier lesson, Elsa finds her footing and position easily. What Elsa hasn’t accounted for is the snug pressure of Anna’s buttery soft leather glove in her hand, the other pressed intimately into the curve of her lower back. Elsa wears nightdresses only for modesty, the material itself is thin, and through it she can feel almost everything, especially the starchy stiffness of Anna’s coat against her chest. This combined with the intoxicating scent of cologne is proving very distracting, and despite her better efforts Elsa begins to fumble, stepping slightly out of time.

Anna breaks character for a moment to comfort her sister. “Don’t worry! You’re doing great.” The whispered reassurance in her ear only flusters the queen further, sending a warm flush up her cheeks. Mistaking it for anxiety, Anna decides to ease her sister’s nerves with some polite conversation roleplay.

“So, uh... how about this winter solstice ball? Pretty awesome.” Ok, so her princey talk is a little rusty. Anna’s never been one for the flowery regal language.

Their footsteps echo hollow against the backdrop of the gentle waltz. “Ah, yes. So... loud and lively,” Elsa says, tossing a bemused glance at the surrounding portraits. “What brings you to Arendelle, Prince Andre?”

Anna pretends to search from side to side as if wary of eavesdroppers. “Don’t tell her I said this, but I heard the queen is really hot, well, cold, but in a HOT way, and I thought I could use my manly wiles to charm her into marrying me.”

Elsa snorts so hard she startles even herself, clasping a hand over her mouth a moment too late to stifle it. “Anna!” she hisses, laughing through her embarrassed blush. “I thought this was a serious practice.”

Anna grins widely, pleased at the reaction she was able to elicit. “Hey, princes are seriously that sleazy, Andre is just more open about it! Let’s get real, you’re going to be buried under an avalanche of marriage requests. You gotta get used to it.”  
Elsa’s smile fades a little at the sobering reminder. Anna’s right, and deflecting the inevitable countless proposals isn’t something Elsa’s looking forward to at all.

“Your honesty is truly astounding, Prince Andre. It’s actually a little refreshing,” she says, her nightdress swirling as they move to the music.

Anna blinks. “Wha... Huh? How clumsy of me, I was going for presumptuous jerk.”

Elsa’s smile returns. “You missed the mark a little. I would much rather a frank prince than one who lies about his true intentions. The person I love most is also extremely candid.”

Anna’s glove tightens around her sister’s hand. “Oh...? And who might that be?” Anna asks, a sudden nervous quiver in her belly.

The queen tilts her head; a few loose waves of pale hair spill over her shoulder. “My sister, of course.”

Anna’s face suddenly feels too warm, and the look Elsa is giving her is giving her butterflies. Even the butterflies in her stomach have butterflies. She presses her cheek into the crook of Elsa’s neck to hide.

Elsa turns to lean her head against hers. Anna feels her sister’s breath on the exposed neck under her coat, cool, like crisp morning air. Although it’s hardly that cold, her skin prickles with goosebumps.

“Uh-oh, I’m going to do something presumptuous again!” Anna says, and before Elsa can voice a response, her sister takes a sudden step forward. Elsa finds herself dipped back, throwing her completely off balance. “Anna!” she gasps surprise, clinging tightly to her sister, whose firm grip keeps her from falling to the floor. Elsa’s heart is hammering against her ribcage and it’s all she can do to calm the awakened swirls of winter threatening to burst from her naked fingers. Her tiny frosted fingerprints melt on Anna’s sleeve.

“It’s ok, I got you!” Anna laughs. “I’m stronger than I look, you know.” She pulls her sister upright again. “I’d never let you fall.”

And she doesn’t. As they continue dancing, Anna occasionally dips her again, and again, until her sister is giggling. Elsa had never realized dancing could be so fun. By the end of an hour, or maybe two or three -- she has completely lost track-- the phonograph slows to a stop. Although they are both breathless from exertion and laughter, neither girl seems eager to bring their midnight practice to an end.

“Again?” Elsa asks hopefully. 

“Again,” Anna agrees.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry for the long delay between chapters! On the bright side, I have the final chapter already finished, and all it needs are a couple illustrations. (Trust me, they're worth waiting for.) Thank you for being so patient and for all the lovely comments, they really inspire me to keep writing. <3
> 
> P.S. I realized mid-way that I suddenly switch in this chapter from Elsa's perspective to Anna's, and it continues that way till the end. A beta reader mentioned this being weird, so I'll be extra mindful about consisted narration perspective it in the future.

Every evening for the next week and a half, Elsa and “Prince Andre” have a midnight rendezvous. On their first reunion, Elsa dresses up too, surprising her suitor by appearing in a new handcrafted ice dress.    
  
The tight bodice, decorated in delicate patterns of frosted lace, traces Elsa’s curves in ways that make Anna’s breath catch in her throat.  Elsa remembers Anna’s expression when they met in her ice palace on the north mountain, her little sister staring in slack-jawed awe.  It’s like that now, only better, because Elsa’s not afraid, and Anna’s blushing even harder than the first time, her freckles disappearing into pink.  Elsa doesn’t often indulge in self-congratulatory thoughts; it’s not befitting of a queen.  This time, though, she allows herself the tiniest mental, _Nailed it!_

 

“Do you like it?” she asks.   
  
Anna suddenly snaps out of her daze. “Do I-- um... wow.  Yes, I _like_! I like this-- I mean, _you._ I like you like _this,_ ” she stammers.  Her sister is so beautiful, so poised, so eloquent. In comparison, Anna feels about as elegant as a cow tripping down a staircase.  She bites her lip, taking a breath to compose herself and try that again.  “You look amazing. Gorgeous, really,” she manages at last, trying to recover a more princely tone.  
  
Elsa hides a sheepish smile behind her fingers. “Thank you.  I felt a bit underdressed last night, so I threw a little something together.”  
  
Anna gives a teasing grin and gently caresses her sister’s bared shoulder with her glove.  Elsa unconsciously shivers at the touch. “Oh, I wasn’t talking about the dress. But now that you mention it, that’s beautiful too.”  
  
The queen stifles a laugh, coyly brushing her sister’s hand down.  She’s used to Anna being awkward, but as Prince Andre she can be so _smooth._ It really takes Elsa off-guard.  “Oh stop! If you flatter me any more, my head will swell up and I’ll float away.”  Elsa does feel a little light-headed already, as if she’s had a few cups of wine.  It must be Anna’s cologne, she decides.  
  
“I’m not planning on stopping, so I’d better hang on to you, Your Majesty.” Anna trails her fingers down her sister’s arm, stopping to take her hand.  Elsa holds her breath as Anna kisses her sensitive fingers.  Anna seems to have learned this weak spot, for she smiles and lingers a little longer than necessary.  They proceed down the darkened hallway with fingers intertwined.  
  
When they begin to dance, Anna is treated to another surprise.  
  
“ _Oh..._ ” she murmurs, as she curiously cups her dance partner’s lower back.  Where she’d expected to feel the stiff chill of ice fabric, it’s suspiciously warm.  And smooth.  And... completely _bare_. Heat crawls up Anna’s collar and her hands begin to sweat.  She is suddenly very glad to be wearing gloves.  
  
“Your Majesty,” she whispers, “your dress seems to be missing the back half.”  
  
Elsa leans her head down smiles, as if sharing a secret.  “I know.”  
  
Her sister is so close that Anna can smell the almond milk soap she recently bathed with.  Anna gives a nervous chuckle.  “I-If you wear this to the ball, it’ll cause a scandal.”  
  
“Yes, it probably would,” Elsa agrees.  “Which is why I’ll be wearing something far more boring.  This”--she gestures--“is only for special occasions.”  
  
Anna’s her mouth feels a little dry. She swallows. “And, ah, what’s the occasion tonight?”  
  
Her older sister lowers her voice to a hush, her lips curling into a smile beside Anna’s ear.    Her gentle, frosty breath sends a prickle down Anna’s spine. “I met a cute prince.”  

\--

“Are you feeling all right?”  Elsa asks over breakfast, setting her teacup down.  “You seem a little... out of sorts.”  
  
Anna brushes off her sister’s concern with a shrug.  “I’m fine!  Why?”  
  
Elsa purses her lips in mild concern.  “Well, you’ve been zoning out and buttering your chocolate croissant with mustard,” she says, indicating with her spoon.  
  
“Oh, uh... ew.  Oops,” Anna mutters, setting her culinary failure down on her plate. _What a waste of perfectly good chocolate_ , she laments. “Sorry, I guess I’m just a little scatterbrained today.  I didn’t sleep much.”  
  
“Oh... I’m sorry to hear that.”  Elsa shoots a quick glance to the servant standing by.  “Would you be so kind as to fetch another chocolate croissant for my sister?” she asks.  The servant excuses herself to do so, and Elsa takes the opportunity to lean forward for a private conversation. “I’m sorry, it’s my fault, isn’t it?“  
  
“No, no!” Anna insists, “I wanted to stay up late dancing just as much as you.”  She seems to have a hard time looking her older sister in the eyes.  “I guess I just feel... a little stressed out.  About the ball, I mean.”  
  
“You do? Why?” Elsa asks, and after a moment’s hesitation, sets down her spoon and takes Anna’s hand in hers.  Her sister’s voice, usually so bright and cheery, has taken on the wobbly, uncertain sadness she used to hear from behind closed doors.  But now she is here, there are no doors, and Elsa can’t stand to see her sister look this distressed.  
  
“Just... I think I’m a little jealous, or something, I don’t know.  I’m not sure.  It’s dumb... what am I even talking about, anyway? Don’t worry about it,” Anna says, forcing a smile.  
  
Elsa ignores the dismissal.  “Jealous? Of me?”  she asks, tilting her head in puzzlement.  
  
“No, more like... jealous of Prince Andre.” Anna’s cheeks flush at the admission, her lips tugged into a pout.  “Trust me, I know what it’s like to be totally swept off your feet by a hot guy. If you meet someone like Andre at the ball and really hit it off, I... well, I should be happy for you, right?  But then you’ll want to spend time with him, not me.  And... I feel like I’ve only just got my sister back, you know?  I just don’t want someone to... take you away.  I don’t want to be lonely again.”  Just thinking about Elsa suddenly being smitten with some random foreign prince makes her stomach twist up. But the worst thing is, even if there are no decent suitors at this ball, more will come.  As long as Elsa is single, there will be droves of people trying to win her hand.  And why wouldn’t they?  There is no one in the world as amazing and beautiful as her sister, no one.  
  
Elsa smiles and gives Anna’s fingers a reassuring squeeze, massaging her younger sister’s palm with her thumb. Her hands are unexpectedly warm.  “Anna, I’m not going anywhere. That’s a promise.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 4 is up, and it’s the longest yet! This particular story is drawing to a close, but that’s ok— I have a couple others up my sleeve.

The ball goes off without a hitch.  The guests are thoroughly charmed by Olaf, and bedazzled by Elsa’s (intentional!) ice power demonstrations. Princess Anna is the life of the party, making a point of meeting and greeting every single guest, and acquiring several new friends. It will be said later that Queen Elsa was the epitome of grace and hospitality, a surprising conversationalist who granted all interested parties at least once dance.  Her prowess on the dancefloor is noted, no toes suffer under her sharp, certain heels.  
  
As the main festivities wind down, Elsa transforms the ballroom into an indoor ice rink.  She and her sister have to clap their hands over mouths to stifle their laughter when several inebriated guests attempt to skate, skidding clumsily into each other.  
  
There’s a twinkle in Elsa’s eye as she takes her sister’s hand.  “Come on, Anna. Let’s show them how it’s done.”  With a flick of her wrist, their shoes are transformed into skates.  Before Anna has a chance to protest, she finds herself gliding along in tow.  
  
“Heh... I’m still not very good at this...” Anna mutters, trying to keep her legs from wobbling.  She grasps Elsa’s elbows firmly for assurance as well as balance, staring down at her feet.  
  
Elsa gives a patient smile.  Unlike Anna, her skating is effortless, her gossamer ice cape trailing behind them, smoothing in and out like the tide.  “You’re doing fine!  Unlock your knees... that’s it.  Like I showed you before.”  Anna slowly relaxes, following Elsa’s fluid motions.  She eventually grows confident enough in her balance to look up, smiling back at her sister.  
  
“So...” Anna starts, cautious, as Elsa twirls them in a slow circle in the center of the rink. “On a scale of  total stinkfest to mind-blowingly awesome, how would you rate your first ball as queen?”  
  
“Best. Night. Ever.”  Elsa looks around to take in the scene: the laughing guests, the beautiful decorations, the music, the delicious smell of artisanal chocolates and cakes.  She gives a contented sigh. Anna’s heart squeezes to see her so genuinely happy.  “It was all I hoped it could be and more.  I tasted Sachertorte for the first time!  I met so many wonderful and interesting people!  I never thought I would enjoy something like this. I mean, I never thought I _could_.”  
  
“I told you.  Everyone loved you,”  Anna says, grinning as Elsa ducks her head and tucks a strand of hair behind her ear.  “So, dancing with all those strange men wasn’t so bad after all, huh?”  
  
Elsa tips her head back, blowing air through her teeth. “Actually,” she says, half laughing, “That was kind of awkward.  Half of them were old and smelled funny, and the other half made passes at me with varying degrees of oafishness.  The Earl of Sandwich tried to casually grope my behind.”  
  
“What!?” Anna’s eyes widen in indignant fury, and in her anger nearly trips up on the ice.   “I hope you froze his fingers off!”  
  
“I gave his pants a cold surprise.  I don’t think he’ll try it again.” Elsa assured.  
  
Anna puffs her cheeks.  “Good! You should never trust a man who has anything to do with sandwiches!”   
  
This strange advice prompts another laugh from her sister.  “Really? It sounds like there’s a story behind that,” Elsa says.  
  
Anna just shakes her head. “Ugh.  I’d rather not get into it.”  She tries to push the sour memories away, focusing on the woman in front of her.  There’s no need to dwell on the past when she’s got everything she wants now.  “Well, I’m sorry you didn’t meet your Prince Charming.  To be honest, I’m not sure they really exist.”  
  
Elsa’s eyes soften.  “Oh, I _know_ they do.  Because I have met one.”  
  
Anna feels her heart sink like a lead weight, confused and distressed at the unexpected emotion.  “Wait- what? Really? Who?”  
  
They drift along on the ice hand in hand, Elsa leading them in a graceful turn. She just smiles, tilting her head forward towards Anna.  Her long, dark lashes kiss her cheek as she gives her sister a slow, meaningful blink.  
  
Realization dawns belatedly on Anna’s face. She gnaws her lip to contain a goofy smile. “...Oh.  OH! _That_ one.  Yeah, I guess Prince Andre is the exception.  He’s just so handsome and smooth.  And _such_ a good dancer.”  
  
“And an insufferable flirt,” Elsa adds, her lips pulling into a smirk.  
  
Anna’s eyebrows raise up to her hairline.  “Whoah, hey, he wasn’t the one showing up to dance practice half-naked, _your Highness_.  If anyone was getting fresh, it was _you_.”  She’s pleased at Elsa’s mortified sputter.   
  
“It’s called a _backless dress_. It’s all the rage in Paris!” Elsa protests, looking more and more like a blushing schoolgirl than a queen.  
  
“Uh huh. Maybe at the Moulin Rouge,” Anna murmurs teasingly.  “Sounds to me like your Majesty has a crush.”  Her amused giggles do nothing to help her sister’s distress.  “I can’t blame you, he’s just so hunky _._ ”  
  
Elsa takes a breath and reins herself into some semblance of dignity.  Two can play at this game.  “It’s true, even though he’s tragically short for a man! But he more than makes up for it with his exquisitely flat chest,” Elsa says loftily.   
  
It’s Anna’s turn to be flustered, her freckles disappearing into pink.  For an ice queen, her big sister knows how to dish some serious burns.  But Anna is not so easily defeated.  “I-Is that so? He told me it runs in the family!”    
  
The retort prompts a feigned gasp from Elsa.  “Rude!”  She laughs, though, and Anna joins her.  They’ve both missed this, being comfortable enough to tease each other.  Like normal sisters.  Elsa looks so carefree in this moment, Anna thinks, and it’s so wonderful to see her that way again.  
  
“You know...” Anna says with a sigh, “I’m going to miss Prince Andre and our dance practices.”  
  
“Me too,” Elsa admits, and both sisters find themselves awkwardly avoiding each other’s gaze.  “To be honest, I would have rather danced with him than all the other men tonight.”  
  
Anna looks up. “I... Oh?  Really? Because, if that’s the case... I could totally go fetch him.  Like, right now, if you want.”  
  
Elsa gives a startled laugh, glancing briefly at the crowd around them.  Her mouth answers before her brain has time to process the suggestion. “Ok.”  She seems surprised to hear the words leave her lips.  
  
Anna blinks.  “R-Really-? I mean, ok! I’ll get him!”  She had been half-joking, but all right!    
  
“Anna--“  
  
“Rendevouz in garden. Ten minutes.  Be square. Be there. I mean-- you know what I mean!”  Before Elsa has a chance to protest, Anna detaches herself and skates away.  She has all the grace of a baby deer slipping on ice, somewhat ruining her dramatic exit. “Sorry... sorry!” she calls behind her as she accidentally bowls over the Duke of Something Or Other.  
  
Elsa watches her go, wringing her hands.

 

\--

 

In honor of the Winter Solstice, the garden has been transformed into a breathtaking gallery of ice sculpture.  Anna, hair tucked back and now clad in a more appropriately warm tailored suit, walks down the path and admires Elsa’s handiwork.  Bathed only in moonlight, the reflections of stars and faint glow of the palace windows filter through the ice, painting it with liquid shadow and shimmer.   At the center of the garden, the miniature Arendelle castle makes a gorgeous centerpiece, the perfect ice as clear and flawless as crystal.  To Anna’s relief, the tiny confused snowpeople seem to have recovered their locomotive powers.  Through the tiny ice windows, she sees them dancing as gracefully as her sister did tonight.  
  
“Hello.”  
  
Anna turns to see the queen approaching down the path.  She’s changed into a new ice dress, a design Anna hasn’t seen before. Her eyes follow up from Elsa’s sister’s ice slippers to the -- gulp!-- long and revealing slit of her flowing dress, leading up to swaying hips.  Elsa’s bare arms gracefully at her sides, and a snowflake choker sparkles at on her pale throat.  But most impressive is her unexpected hairstyle, tied back in a braid but with blond wisps falling down to frame her pretty face.  “Elsa... I-I mean, _good evening_ , your Majesty,” Anna stammers in a puff of hot breath, temporarily forgetting herself.   
  
“Good evening, Prince Andre.” Elsa smiles and brushes a strand of hair aside, apparently proud of the reaction she’s induced.  When Anna offers her an arm, she entwines it with her own.  “I like your new jacket,” Elsa says, petting her sister’s sleeve.  Her caress sends little tingles down Anna’s spine.  
  
“Oh, thanks!  I like your new... everything.  As usual, you totally blew me out of the water.”  
  
Elsa laughs behind her fingers.  “I just wanted to look nice for you, that’s all.”  
  
“For me?” The winter chill on Anna’s face is replaced with hot flush.  “Oh.  I mean, you do look ice-- _nice_!  Although the ice is also nice!  Look at all this _nice ice!_ ” she rambles loudly, waving a hand to gesture at the glimmering sculptures around them. “Look at this art!  It’s like Leonardo da Vinci and an ice cube got married and had babies all over this place!  I could just cry!”  
  
“Ah--“ Elsa gives a nervous smile, unsure how to respond to that.  
  
Anna chews her lip as though to button it, her brain starting to catch up to her blundering blabbermouth.  “I, uh, what I mean to say is... it’s gorgeous. Everything you make is beautiful.  And guess what, you're so pretty it makes me stupid! Congratulations.”  She gives a defeated laugh.  
  
“I love you.”  It comes out as a blurt, startling them both.  Elsa sucks in a breath, her fingers tightening around Anna’s sleeve.  She smiles, tentative, vulnerable.  “No, but really, I do.  I love you so much."  She opens her mouth to try to continue, then shuts it again when the words don’t come.  
  
“I love you too!”  Anna says with startled chuckle.  They approach a stone bench, and Anna leans down to brush the snow off for them to sit.  Elsa settles down beside her, icy fabric pooling over the marble.  “May I ask what brought this on?  Is it the dapper jacket? It’s the jacket, isn’t it.”  Anna smooths it down proudly.  
  
Elsa shakes her head and presses her lips into a reserved smile.  “I just felt like saying it.  I had an incredible night, and everything went better than expected.”  She shifts her hand from the crook in Anna’s arm to clasp her sister’s hand.“I owe it all to your help.  Thank you.”  
  
Anna’s chest fills with a warm rush of joy at the praise, but she attempts a nonchalant shrug. “Oh, pssh.  You’re not giving yourself enough credit! Just admit it, you’re amazing.  You don’t need my help with that.  All I did was give you a couple dance tips.”  
  
Elsa turns her face to Anna a ginger smile. “Don’t underestimate yourself, either.  You managed to help me relax enough to have fun. That’s a big deal, for me.”  
  
There comes again in a rush, that warm fuzzy feeling.  It rises from her chest to paint a pink glow on her cheeks.  “I’m glad.” Anna says, squeezing Elsa’s fingers between her own.  She sighs out a puff of warm breath, they both watch it disappear into the dark.  
  
“I... I wanted to make you something,” Elsa says shyly, looking down at her hands. “To thank you.”  She turns to her sister.  “Would you like to see?”  
  
“Oh, you don’t have to--“ Anna begins, just to be polite, but who is she kidding, “--but if you’re offering, then yes please!”  She leans forward excitedly.  
  
Elsa smiles and brings her hands together.  Blue light peeks out between her fingers, swirls between her palms to from a tiny gale.  Anna’s eye widen and for a moment she gets flickers to a distant, foggy memory, or perhaps it’s only deja-vu.  No matter how many times she sees Elsa’s magic, it never ceases to impress.  
  
The swirling glow crystallizes into a solid form on Elsa’s palm -- she extends it to her sister.  It’s a stylized pair of ice dancers, frozen in a graceful pose.  
  
“This... this is incredible,” Anna murmurs, turning it one way and the other to admire the reflected colors and light passing through.  “Thank you, thank you!  I’ll put it in the freezer as soon as we get inside so I can keep it forever and ever.”  
  
Elsa laughs.  “Don’t worry, it won’t melt!  You can put it wherever you like.”  
  
Anna, forgetting her princely act for the time being,  leans her shoulder into Elsa’s to rest their heads together.  “You’re amazing, you know that? You--“ As she tilts her chin toward Elsa, her voice cuts off by an unexpected press against her mouth.  Elsa, aiming to kiss Anna’s cheek, has missed the mark entirely, catching her halfway on the lips instead.  Their noses bump.  
  
Heat flares up in Anna’s chest, rising all the way up to her ears.  Both sisters blink in surprise, for a split second both are too startled to move. And just as quickly, they both pull back.  Anna can still feel the sensation of Elsa’s lips.  
  
“Sorry-“ Anna stammers, her heart hammering like it wants to escape.  Elsa holds up a hand to reassure, “I-It’s ok,” she says, but she has never looked so pink before.  Anna bites her lip, trying to think of what to say.  Are they going to ignore it, or?  She wishes Elsa would say something.  They both suddenly take an intense interest in fidgeting with their hands.  
  
“Ah-hem.  So. I guess you won’t be needing dance lessons anymore,” Anna begins, nervously plucking at a button on her sleeve, “So... I suppose this is goodbye. To Prince Andre, I mean.”  
  
Elsa’s shoulders slump.  “I guess so,” she replies, her cheerfulness melting away.  She hugs herself.  If Anna didn’t know better, she would think she was cold.  Anna wants to touch her arm, scoot closer, but ugh, maybe it would be weird now. She frowns.  The invisible wall between them is too familiar.  
  
“I wish there was something else I was good at, so I could teach it to you,”  Anna sighs through pouted lips, sending her copper bangs fluttering.  “But you’re already good at everything.”  
  
“That’s not true,” Elsa says quickly, “I’m really not.”  Her hand moves to rest on the  marble seat between them.  “I’m still learning to do a lot of things you probably take for granted.”  
  
Anna raises her eyebrows. “Like dancing?  Because to be honest, I think you’re actually way better at it than I am.”  
  
“No, I mean...” Elsa takes a shaky breath, looking down to her hands.  “Like being in room with multiple people and not panicking.  Like leaving doors open.  Like not flinching when people touch me-- people who aren’t you, I mean,” she adds quickly as Anna starts to pull away the hand that was edging toward her own.  Elsa reaches for it, hugs it toward her chest.  “You can touch me anytime,” she says with an earnest smile.  
  
Anna covers her mouth and sputters laughter.  “Oh Your Majesty, behave yourself please! We’re in a public place!” she exclaims, feigning bashfulness.  
  
“What-- argh!”  Elsa rubs at her face, groaning in embarrassment through her gritted smile. “Okay, sorry, that did sound a little weirder out loud than it did in my head.  You know what I meant!” Anna is secretly delighted to learn her cool and collected older sister can be be occasionally tongue-tied with awkwardness. For once it was nice not to be the awkward one.  
  
“But really, Anna,” Elsa continues, trying to steer the conversation back on topic, “you’ve had so many experiences and adventures I haven’t.  You’ve played with puppies, held children, gone horseback riding. You’ve held hands with someone you loved, kissed them--“  
  
“You could do all those things too if you wanted to, Elsa!” Anna interjects. “We can do them together!”  
  
Elsa’s eyes widen.  “Probably not the kissing part, though,” she says with a nervous chuckle.  Anna remembers their awkward face-smush moments before, how nice Elsa’s perfume smelled and the cool touch of her lips, and a little voice in the back of her mind whispers, _I wouldn’t mind._ She tries unsuccessfully to subdue the heat rising in her cheeks again at the thought.  
  
Suddenly curious, Anna gives tilts her head in contemplation.  “Is there someone you _want_ to kiss, Elsa?”  It’s hard to imagine Elsa as someone who would moon over a man.  Honestly, for the longest time Anna thought Elsa had grown to prefer spending all her life completely alone. But as she’s learned recently, a lot of her previous assumptions are wrong.  
  
Her sister shrugs, sending her pale braid swishing like an anxious cat’s tail.  “Oh, I don’t know.  It’s more that I’m curious about it, that’s all.  It seems like something normal people like to do.”  She smiles as she says it, an attempt to sound casual, but her hands edge up to hug herself again.  
  
“You’re normal! Okay, no, you’re not normal... you’re extraordinary, but in the best way,” Anna corrects herself, taking Elsa’s hand to peel it out of the grip on her own elbow.  She turns it, rubs Elsa’s palm reassuringly with her gloved thumb.  “Remember when you were afraid of touching anyone without gloves? Well, tonight you danced with every prince and Duke in the neighboring lands like it was nothing.  You’ll be making out with hot guys in no time.  Three guys at once, even.”  
  
Elsa gives a scandalized gasp.  “Anna...!”  
  
Anna holds up her hands placatingly.  “Hey, you’re the queen, remember? You do what you want.”  She drops her hands to her lap, drumming her fingers restlessly.  Elsa still looks wound-up, and humor isn’t helping.  “What _do_ you want, Elsa?  Because if you want to try kissing, I honestly, I can’t imagine anyone in the world would turn you down.”  
  
Her sister avoids her gaze.  “It’s... don’t worry about it, Anna.  Let’s talk about something else.” Elsa reaches for her braid, pulls it over her shoulder to absentmindedly stroke it.  Anna can feel the invisible wall rising between them again, and it makes an uncomfortable cold clench in the pit of her stomach.  Suddenly, an idea hits her.  
  
“It’s because you’re worried about it, right?  That you won’t be good at it?  That’s okay, nobody is, at least not at first.  I mean, I used to practice on my own hand.  Let me tell you, it’s nothing like the real thing.”  
  
Elsa finally looks back at her, blinking in surprise.  “You... did what?  How does that even...” She glances at her own fingers in confusion, turns them about, apparently trying to figure out how a hand could be used in such a manner. She looks back at Anna with a concerned expression.  Her sister blushes.  
  
“The point is, you really shouldn’t worry about it, okay?  I promise that your kissing technique is gonna be the last thing on someone’s mind.  I’m kind of plain, so I have to make up for that somehow, but you’re... you!”  
  
Elsa’s back straightens up and her expression sobers.  “You’re _not_ plain. You’re _wonderful_ ,” Elsa says firmly, a queenly decree. Her eyes soften.  “You’re also forgetting that unlike you, I have a bad habit of freezing things that make me anxious. And the thought of... kissing someone... does,” she admits shamefully, shoulders slumping again.  
  
There is a contemplative pause.  The sisters look out across the snow-dusted grounds, the silent ice monuments of Elsa’s handiwork.  “Weeeeeeeell...” Anna says slowly, biting her lip, “Maybe you just need some practice with someone you trust to build up your confidence! You know? Just like with dancing.”    
  
Her heartbeat picks up again, faster and faster with each second Elsa doesn’t respond.  Was that too weird? It was probably too weird.  “A-a lot of girls do that, you know? I mean, I heard they do.  Practice with their best friends and stuff,” Anna blurts.  
  
Elsa takes a shaky breath, wrings her hands in her lap.  “I think that’s a little weird if your best friend is also your sister.”  Oh no. It _was_ weird.  
  
“Yeah! Yeah, probably,”  Anna agrees too quickly, unconsciously reaching up to tuck a away a nonexistent tuft of white hair, her ears burning with embarrassment for even entertaining the idea.  Quick, she needed to play it off like it was all a joke.  “But you could always ask Prince Andre.  He’s really into you.” The words leave her mouth before she has a chance to think. Oh no. That wasn’t even close to a joke.   
  
Elsa’s eyes widen. They are so beautiful and so sharp, bright blue in the starlight, and looking at them brings a flutter to her sister’s belly.  “Is he now?” she asks, her cheeks reddening, and she lifts her fingers to cover the smile tugging across her lips.  She gives a coy glance to the side.  “Well, I suppose it would be nice to have more lessons to look forward to.”  
  
Anna purses her lips into a barely-concealed smile, straightening her back.  “And it would be my pleasure to assist your Majesty in any way I can,” she says, deepening her voice slightly into what she hopes is a sultry tone, but resulting more comical.  Both sisters laugh at this, their giggles tapering off into an anticipating silence that stretches between them like a taut string.  
  
“So...” Anna says finally, shifting her feet, “Would you... I mean... Do you want to try?”  
  
Elsa sucks in a nervous breath.  “R-right now?”  
  
Anna gestures widely.  “I can’t think of a better place to have your first kiss, can you?” she asks.  “A quiet, starry sky, a beautiful snow-covered garden bathed in moonlight, both of us dressed to the nines, and no nosy people around.  Unless you want to conjure up a snowman to play some violin or something, it doesn’t get more romantic than this.”

  
Elsa tilts her head down sheepishly and smiles.  “I suppose you’re right.”  She takes another breath, hands clutched and trembling slightly in her lap.  “So... Ah... Okay.  How do we start?”  
  
“Well, first...” Anna says, scooting herself closer, nervous excitement building in her chest, “I need you to face me.” She gently cups her sister’s chin, and Elsa obediently turns it towards her.  Her older sister’s eyes flutter shut as she takes another shaky breath.  “Good,”  Anna murmurs her encouragement.  Their faces are so close that Anna can see her sister’s faint freckles in the moonlight.  Without thinking, her gloved hand brushes them with her thumb. The nervousness climbs up from her chest to form a dry lump in her throat.  Elsa’s beauty is arresting enough from a distance, but being this intimately close feels sinfully indulgent.  Perhaps it is.  But Elsa seems cool with it (no pun intended) so Anna can’t bring herself to mind.  
  
“Ah... okay.  So...” Anna leans forward slowly, closing her own eyes.  She tilts her head just so.  She can feel the ghost of Elsa’s cool breath on her lips.    
  
Suddenly, she stops.  “Hey... pause for a second.  If I kiss you, is my tongue going to get stuck to yours? Because that would be awkward.”    
  
Elsa’s eyes snap open.  “ _Tongue?_ Who said anything about tongue?”  
  
“Oh. Uh...” Anna chuckles nervously.  “I just assumed, I mean... I was gonna go all out.”  
  
Elsa sighs frustratedly.  “Anna--”   
  
“Prince Andre!” Anna corrects.  
  
“ _Prince Andre,_ let’s just take it slow, okay?”  Elsa pinches the bridge of her nose.  “I’ll be less likely to freeze your tongue if you don’t surprise me.”  
  
“All right, all right! Close your eyes again.”  Elsa obeys and leans forward again, smiling a little at her sister’s impatience.  Anna touches her nose to Elsa’s, then slowly tilts her head in for their lips to meet.  Elsa shivers, and Anna caresses her sister’s bare arms, bringing her gloves to rest on her sister’s pale, exposed shoulders.  Smiling into Elsa’s soft lips, Anna gives them the tiniest gentle nibble.  The queen gives a small whimper at this, and Anna grudgingly parts them.  
  
“You okay?” she murmurs, finding herself a little breathless.  Elsa is too.  
  
“Mm-hmm,”  Elsa replies, her face flushed.  “I just felt a tickle.  Here.” She reaches a shy hand down to touch her belly.  
  
Anna smiles and leans in to touch their foreheads .  “I felt it too. You know what that means?  It means you’re doing it right.  Not bad for your first time.”  
  
 “Can we...  please...” Elsa’s shaking hands clench and unclench with unspoken want.   “A-again,” she stammers, and her sister eagerly obliges, kissing her more firmly this time, pressing their bodies closer.  Elsa gasps against her mouth.  Her hands hover uncertainly over Anna’s middle, and so Anna takes them one by one and guides them around her back, where they cling tightly to the stiff material of her jacket.  Her own hands rest on her sister’s hips, but then her sister’s soft sighs embolden her and she trails her hands up and down the sides of Elsa’s tight, ice-frosted bodice.  Elsa seems to enjoy that, responding with a moan.

  


Despite the fact that it’s cold enough for snow to stick, Anna feels a bit too warm under the collar. A bead of sweat rolls forms on her brow.  This is enough buildup, she thinks.  Unable to restrain herself any longer, she rakes her teeth gently over her sister’s lower lip, following with a pink dart of tongue.  Elsa’s lips are chilled, and taste of chocolate, probably from the eclaire she enjoyed earlier that evening.  Elsa whimpers and shudders again, but doesn’t pull back, and Anna takes this as an invitation.  She slips herself inside to part her sister’s cool lips with her tongue. Elsa offers herself tentatively, tilting her head to allow Anna better access. To their pleasant surprise, no tongues are frozen in the process.  
  
Anna’s heart is beating furiously, her mind clouded by a haze of desire and disbelief at the whole situation.  She is faintly aware of a wetness in her hands.  Actually, her gloves feel almost soaked.  Could she really be sweating that much?  She peeks her eyes open to take a glance.  “Mmmm--mmpph...Eltha...” she groans, and her sister yields, blinking.  “Y-yes?”  
  
Anna gives a startled laugh.  “Your, uh... your dress...”  Elsa’s ice dress is glistening wet, dripping fat drops onto the marble bench. Part of it have become so thin and transparent that Elsa’s fair skin is showing through.  Pulling back, Anna realizes something else.  Steam is rising from her sister’s hair, the ice used to hold her style together evaporating into the night.  Locks of pale blond spill across her back and shoulders.  
  
“Oh. Oh!” Elsa exclaims, her cheeks aflame.  She quickly waves her hands to repair the damage, although she forgets the hair in favor of the more pressing issue of public nudity.  
  
“Love thaws. We should have thought of that.” Anna grins.  “Next time, you should wear real clothes.”


	5. Epilogue

The next day, their breakfast is interrupted by the head of the castle staff requesting an impromptu meeting with the queen.  Anna waits patiently, and then not-so-patiently as the minutes drag on, kicking her feet and stirring her hot chocolate until it gets cold. Wondering what could be taking so long, she walks out of the dining room with Elsa’s neglected croissant, planning to return it as an excuse to find out.  Approaching Elsa’s study, she hears voices--a barrage of low, tense mutterings that cut off abruptly as Elsa herself throws open the door.    
  
"Enough," she says, still looking back over her shoulder.  "ENOUGH.  I appreciate your concern, but I will remind you that I am the queen and I will do as I please with or without your consent."  Turning to face forward, she starts when she sees her sister blocking the doorway.  
  
“Anna?”  Her cold expression thaws a little.  
  
“Um...Chocolate croissant?” Anna squeaks, offering it up.  
  
There it is, a reluctant smile.  “Thank you,”  Elsa says, and gestures for Anna to follow her down the hall.   
  
Anna hitches herself to her sister by the elbow.  “Hey, so, what was that about?”  
  
Elsa sinks her teeth into the croissant, tears off a chunk, and chews it furiously.  “I can’t believe them,” she fumes mushily, mouth still half-full.  Anna gapes.  “Apparently one of the staff saw us last night and felt the need to call a meeting over it, claiming I was going to cause a scandal.”  
  
Anna feels her gut sink down to her feet. Her face pales.  “Oh no.” To Anna’s surprise, Elsa suddenly starts chuckling to herself.  Oh dear.  Perhaps the stress of the situation has cracked the queen.  
  
“They thought you were actually a prince,” Elsa says, brandishing the remainder of her croissant.  “Who do they think they are, telling me who I can and can’t kiss? I’m the queen. I do what I want.”  
  
“Slap that on a scroll and sign it! Yeah!” Anna grins with relief, and gives her sister an admiring smack on the back.  Elsa is so startled she sputters and nearly chokes. Anna winces. “Oops, sorry!”  
  
“So... we’re on for more lessons tonight?” Elsa asks once she has recovered, smiling over her thumb as she lips the crumbs from her fingers.  
  
A pleased blush heats up Anna’s cheeks.  She drops into a formal curtsey. “If it pleases  your Majesty.”  
  
“Good.  Now, I’m afraid I have another meeting to prepare for, so--” Elsa cuts herself off and tenses as Anna suddenly and unexpectedly breaches her personal space bubble.  Her younger sister grasps Elsa’s sleeves and leans close, faces almost touching- and flickers the tip of her tongue over the corner of Elsa’s lips.  Elsa’s cheeks blush pink and goosebumps prickle down her back. Her hands instinctively clench and waver away her sister’s waist.  “Anna--”

  
  
“What?  You had a crumb on your face,”  Anna says, licking her lips with a decidedly mischievous grin.  That grin is trouble. It has coerced Elsa into misbehaving far too many times, and it’s working again now.  
  
“Ah- oh.  Thank.. thank you.”  Elsa mutters, her heart still racing.  “Well, I, ah, I should go.”  
  
She starts down the hall, stops, looks over her shoulder.  “And Anna... about our lessons-- Don’t worry about bringing Prince Andre. Just bring yourself,” she says, returning her sister’s smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have some other ideas for fic regarding these two, and I'm excited to work on them soon! For those of you who were waiting on a continuation of where this fic was leading, I think some of my next fics could easily be considered sequels. Thank you for all your encouragement, and of course for reading!


End file.
